


Lucia ac Tenebras

by ThusSpokeRaven



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse, American Horror Story: Coven, Ratched (TV)
Genre: Crossover, F/F, Lesbians, Lily Rabe - Freeform, Lucia State Hospital, Rating May Change, S&M, Sarah Paulson - Freeform, Sexual Content, Tags May Change, Time Travel, Time Travelling Lesbians, Witch Curses, Witchcraft, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:34:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26568148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThusSpokeRaven/pseuds/ThusSpokeRaven
Summary: The coven must find a way to protect itself from a longstanding curse.
Relationships: Mildred Ratched/Misty Day
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	1. Chapter 1

Zoe looked at Mallory with a raised brow. “And you haven’t said a word to….anyone.” Zoe’s fingers pressed her temple to ward off the rising headache. “You are a time travelling Supreme who ran over the anti-Christ and who has enough juice with the Underworld to raise Misty and Madison.” She tried to keep her breathing under control. “And you want me to keep mum?” When Mallory had cornered her and asked to speak privately, she never imagined what she was about to be told would upend her thoughts on reality.

Mallory shook her head. “I won’t be the Supreme in this timeline. I mean, I am still Supreme strong, but everything changed. I just don’t want things to get awkward and Cordelia would worry and there is no reason. I am just… a little different from the usual student here.” It sounded a little lame even to her ears, but she just wanted things to stay the same. She also needed to tell someone, preferably the same someone who would have eventually put the possibility of her being a rising Supreme in Cordelia’s mind. “Please Zoe. I am not a problem.”

Zoe eventually nodded. “I get it, just know if the coven needs you, she is going to have to be told.” The council member frowned. “I don’t feel right about this, but I will respect your wishes at least that far.” She sat back in her chair and frowned. This was going to be a heavy secret to carry.

The Supreme that was and would never be, nodded. “I am a member of this coven and I will do what I have to for it.”

Cordelia craned her head around the door frame. “Zoe? Can you come up to my office in a little bit?”

The young woman looked up and smiled at her Supreme. “Of course. What’s up?”

Cordelia gave a tight smile and jerked her chin. “Just come when you can.” 

Zoe looked and Mallory and sighed as she stood. “Why do I have a feeling you have Salem Coven timing?” She shook her head and followed the Supreme up the stairs.

Mallory’s lips tightened. “Why do I have a feeling you’re right and this is going to be the shortest mum ever?” She huffed out a breath and crossed her arms looking through the windows at the far end of the room.

Misty smiled as she came into the room. “Hey Mallory. I was just lookin’ for you. The girls want to go play in the quarter and I thought you and I could use a bit of sun. I look like last week’s death and you are pale as a fish belly.” She slid her arm through Mallory’s. “Come on. If you don’t come, it’ll be me and Madison trailing the babies and the last time Madison buried me alive. I would hate to have to end her just when she got tolerable.”

Mallory chuckled. “I could use a day out. Let’s play until the crisis of the week hits.”

“That’s my philosophy.” Misty laughed as they headed out to join the group coming together in the front hall.

Zoe appeared at the top of the stairs. “Mallory? We need you. Misty? You better come too.”

Mallory turned to look at the girls in the foyer. “Get back on time and stay together.” She looked at Misty. “Guess we should have moved faster.”

Misty smiled. “Wouldn’t do no good. When shit hits fan around here, you could have wings on your feet and still get splashed.” She started up the stairs, closely followed by Mallory.

* * *

Gwendolyn was waxy in the pine box, almost like one of those saints whose remains never rotted in the churches of Europe. To Mildred’s mind an apt comparison. Gwen forgave her for the uncounted lies at Lucia and still accepted the wayward faux nurse into her arms for the time she had remaining. She was upright and in some ways uptight, but Gwen loved her and bent all the rules for Mildred’s sake. Mildred pressed a finger to the cold lips and touched her own. Her prayers in this life had been so ineffective. Her saint was gone to heaven and God could go to hell.

Mildred turned and found Dr. Diaz standing next to a woman of exceptional age in black from head to toe, leaning upon a gnarled cane. The old woman touched her sleeve and began to speak. Dr. Diaz nodded and turned toward the redhead by the coffin. The female head of the mistletoe trials cleared her throat uncomfortably. 

“This is a folk healer who inspired some of the mistletoe trials we have been doing. Folk healer, some would call her.. “ Dr. Diaz sighed. “Bruja, witch,” she finished in a subdued voice. She rubbed her head as if such superstitions exhausted her. “She says you are in danger. A bad man is coming for you.” Diaz frowned at the elderly woman. 

The redhead drew herself up tall. Mildred’s lip curled humorlessly. “I am tired of waiting for him. I intend to find him.”

The bruja approached her and cocked her head. “You… with me. I make you strong.” The woman tapped her cane as she left the little chapel. Dr. Diaz’s brow rose watching the old woman before turning back to her former patient’s partner. She opened her mouth to speak to be stopped by an upraised hand.

Mildred spared one final look for the empty shell before the altar and followed. She was in this moment adrift in her plans. Hunting her brother required what the witch offered and a plan. The plan would come as she stood tall again. It could not be worse than playing the role of a bounty hunter that had been her previous vague half plan and if the bruja taught her anything, she would have another weapon to bear when she brought him low. 


	2. Chapter 2

Cordelia looked down at the pen in her hand before raising her eyes to Queenie, Zoe and the newcomers to the room, Mallory and Misty. Zoe insisted Mallory joined them when Cordelia began to speak. The Supreme looked at the uncomfortable young woman speculatively and then at Zoe. “I will begin again then.”

Cordelia rose and indicated chairs to the newcomers. “In the years prior to the establishment of Miss Robichaux’s Academy, there was something of a war between the magical forces of this wild new land and the magical forms of the Old World. The blending of magicks produced some of the most powerful witches either had known, but some practitioners of each believed that surrendering any of their uniqueness, identity would mean the end and so fought with all that was in them. It resulted in a singularly powerful curse being leveled on the witches of Salem.”

Queenie frowned. “We’re here because of some dusty ass curse?”

“A curse, powered by death can remain in effect for generations. A curse powered by the deaths of a small group of zealots and held in abeyance by a kind of magical sleep? It is incredibly powerful and would have only grown stronger, stewing as it has. It is the traditional duty of each Supreme to renew the bonds that kept the curse and perhaps add to the knowledge of the counter curse that generations of Salem descendants have been devising.”

“Let me guess...this is another thing Fiona ran out on,” Queenie said, her arms crossing. “Girl, even dead that woman is throwing massive shade all over us. How do we put this thing to sleep again?”

Zoe shook her head as she felt acid begin churning in her gut. “If we’re in here, I am guessing that it isn’t going to be that straightforward.”

Mallory frowned. “How bad is this curse?”

Cordelia sighed. “Before Supreme Keziah Carrier was able to deflect it, less than five of the 30 witches with her survived, within days of its inception. It is apparently a particularly nasty way to go.”

Zoe looked out the window and breathed out. “How close were they on the counter curse?”

Delia looked at her old friend sadly. “It was very close. We would have to start from scratch. The counter curse depended on the help of a practitioner of another school that had been related to the purist cult, one which died out in California during the Lucia disaster in 1955.”

Misty snorted. “Once they been worm food a few years, I ain’t able to do nothing for ‘em.”

“Exactly,” Delia responded, frowning as she caught the look Zoe cast Mallory. “What?” she demanded.

“If we could get back there, we could raise this witch right? We know where and when she was….” Zoe circled her hand slowly.

“Abuela Tlapa was the last of ...well, their version of a Supreme. She simply walked off into the sunset one day. Her last pupil was an American nurse called Ratched. I don’t know if she was a true heir, but she would have been initiated into the rites enough for  our purposes, I believe. That is all pointless however given that, as I said, she died in California more than a half century ago.” Delia shrugged and tried to think of a new basis for a counter curse.

Zoe looked at Mallory. “You went back further,” she said sotto voce. Not sotto voce enough apparently given the attention they suddenly got.

Cordelia shook her head. “Someone needs to start talking.” She stood up and then crouched between the chairs of Zoe and Mallory. “Who is going to start?”

“It’s my secret,” Mallory confessed. “I asked Zoe to keep it.” She looked at her hands. “My power… Tempus Infinituum.”

Queenie frowned. “That’s not listed in that book of powers I was reading.”

Zoe sighed. “Because no one has successfully used it….in our timeline.” She looked at Mallory. “But that might have to change if the Salem Coven is to survive.”

“In our timeline?” Cordelia asked leaning toward Mallory’s chair. “What does she mean by in our timeline?”

Misty looked at the three women on the other side of the seating area. “What’s Tempus In-whatever when it’s home?”

Zoe looked at her. “A chance for you to use your resurgence on a woman in 1955.”

“Time travel? Mallory is Doctor Who?” asked Queenie. She caught the looks. “Yeah bitches, I know what that is,” she grumbled.

Blinking, the younger Supreme turned back to Zoe. “I never took anyone back,” Mallory responded aghast. “It took Supreme powers to take myself back.”

All eyes suddenly rested on the young time traveler. She gulped. “I was a Supreme, but I kind of still am but not in this timeline….” she trailed off. This was going to be a long meeting.

* * *

Mildred adjusted her collar as she looked in the mirror. Her hair was perfect, her uniform pristine. She was ready for her first day back at Lucia. Turning, she went in search of her old friend and occasional enemy Betsy Bucket. 

When Gwen died, a piece of her died. What was left, burned with the only mission left in her, to stop her brother. To that end she studied the pagan arts of the old woman from the funeral and learned the best ways to utilize an obsidian stone from Abuela’s only remaining child who dreamed of leading a true Aztec army. She had become very efficient in dispensing mercy and intended completing what she started, dispensing mercy to her blood soaked and rabid brother before he could do the same to her. 

She gave a brisk knock and entered the office of the hospital administrator. Mildred walked across the expansive floor toward the battleship desk, behind which sat Betsy Bucket. 

Betsy clicked her tongue. “You still have no manners. Have you learned anything more about being a nurse?”

“I learned a bit about medicinal herbs and how not to boil a patient,” Mildred responded, placing a peach on the older woman’s desk.

The former nurse placed a time worn hand over the fruit reliving the first time they squabbled  over peaches. “Nowhere near as fun if I don’t steal it from you, but thank you.” She stood and came around the desk to give the other woman an awkward hug. “I was worried about you when I didn’t hear anything for so long after Gwennie died. It was kind of a relief to get your letter. Are you sure about coming back here?”

“I am.” Mildred replied with a fraction of a smile.

“Ulterior motives this time?” Betsy Bucket asked. She knew Mildred better than this.

“He’ll come to kill me. He’ll fail. I won’t.”


	3. Chapter 3

Mallory looked at the Supreme, gathering herself before she spoke. There was a knot the size of a Buick in her stomach, but she knew what she had to do. “I will do it if the coven needs it.” She looked over at her friend in the hippy wear. “I can bring the nurse back to life if she is dead. You can stay here, I’m sure I can do this Misty.” It was hard enough taking on the fate of the coven...again, the possibility of being directly responsible for her friend’s death was gnawing on her bones.

Misty shook her head. “Ain’t no way you are headed into something called ‘the Lucia disaster’ without backup Mal.” She frowned. “What was the disaster anyway?” she asked Zoe who had popped up a laptop and started fishing for information. She leaned over the back of the chair and tried not to be too obvious in her wonder at Zoe’s ability to tame the computer.

The council member frowned as she flipped through websites on history and weirdness. “There’s a crater where the state nuthouse used to be and 60,000 acres of land burned around from the ocean to the mountains. It looks like a chicken and egg disaster. Either a forest fire blew up the hospital or an explosion at the hospital led to a large fire”

Misty’s brow knit and the stubborn filled up her features. “If you can take me with, I am goin’.” Her tone brooked no argument. 

Cordelia looked at the group of her girls sitting around her. Her eyes landed at the reluctant sort of Supreme. “Mallory? I have to agree. Our coven’s greatest strength is our bond with one another. I would feel better if someone went with to watch your back and considering our coven’s future hangs on getting this Ratched through this in one piece? It should be Misty. I am not comfortable sending any of you into this, but you two have the best chance.”

She stood and went to the desk. Pulling out a small box, she crouched beside Mallory. “This is a token that any Supreme from the last two hundred years would recognize. Find her, try to get her here, but failing that, get her to Anna. She’ll know about the counter-curse and the token will convince her that you are ours.” She took a breath and looked at Zoe and Queenie. “We need to put our heads together and find a way to insure that they can come back to us.”

Queenie nodded. “Think I saw something we can maybe whammy into a rubber band to get them back, if Mallory can handle the output headed out.”

Zoe looked up from her computer. “Really? I can’t wait to see what you’ve got.” She grinned, happy to be helpful in this dire situation.

* * *

Betsy ended the tour in the dining room. “Best hospital food in California,” she concluded proudly. “You won’t have to bring a lunch sack anymore. There is even meals prepared and left for the night staff.”

Mildred Ratched considered the laden buffet a moment. “I prefer my bologna. Thank you.” She looked at the patients. “I won’t be interacting with most of them, then.” She summed up, nodded briefly at a small knot of familiar patients.

“As night nurse, you will be in charge of emergency sedation, making sure that the violent patients don’t kill anyone and the ones without restrictions don’t eat the kitchen bare in the middle of the night.” Betsy accepted a cookie from a shy young woman who ran back to her puzzle on a corner table when she took it.

“I am security.” Mildred summed up, dryly.

Betsy gave her a look. “You are far more frightening than security and they have guns.”

* * *

Charlotte wore the personality of Dr. Hanover like a glove stitched for her own hand. Her fingers took on a kind of surgeon’s grace and her tone became elevated even as her voice dropped slightly. A man of wisdom and gentleness peered from her eyes, the Dr. Hanover she had known until the moment he shoved her into a closet and reverted her to the amorphous grasping violent and untamed mass that her personalities rooted in and grew from. He looked toward the gas station and watched the flash of light, tsking. “Oh dear Edmund. We are going to have to take another hard look at you.” Delicate fingers turned the key that caused the massive car to rumble under her. 

Louise, a former flapper by her looks and a barbarian by her actions, laughed as she clambered into the back seat. She upended a sack into the back seat. “Wish more gas stations had food.” She ripped a wrapper open and started eating chips, humming at the salt on her tongue. “Mmm imagine if they had them Swanson TV dinners in there. Bees knees.”

Charlotte looked at the flapper in the rear view with a sigh. “We’ve no oven in this car with which to cook them.” She often wondered what peculiar fate had bound the strange woman in back to her. 

A man in a white t shirt and pegged jeans slung himself into the front passenger seat. He tossed a crumpled handful of bills and a gun into the glove box. Edmund gave Charlotte a wink. “Looks like we have another appointment about my anger issues and my….what was it? Aggression.” He laughed and snagged a candy bar from the back. 

“Eddie,” Louise called from the back seat. “We need to get a land yacht, you know, one of them Airstream things. We can get TV dinners and cook them and everything.” She laughed and began talking about the amenities of the campers she’d seen over the years.

Edmund chuckled. He looked out at the road stretching out in front of him for miles and years. “Might be able to take on a little something like that once we lose some of the ties to the past. We take care of Mildred and then...we will find one shiny as the sun.”


End file.
